


When you look at me, do you see my horns or my halo?

by Melilla



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29731191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melilla/pseuds/Melilla
Summary: Wilbur wins the election by 1%. Schlatt, Quackity, and Tubbo are exiled, forced to start over and try to reclaim the nation they were pushed out of.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Schlatt & Quackity, Schlatt & Technoblade, Schlatt & Tubbo, Schlatt & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	1. The Crows in The Garden Are Laughing at my Expense

**Author's Note:**

> plot is too hard to keep up with so i'm reverting back to the pogtopia arc because that's the only one i remember with any sort of clarity
> 
> chapter title taken from The Garden, by the Crane Wives.

Schlatt didn’t really think of himself as a politician. He was, at his core, a businessman. His whole thing was making deals, hashing out solutions and compromises. He was persuasive and occasionally he could make a good speech or so, but he wasn’t really cut out to be a leader or a statesman. In fact, he wasn’t really sure why he decided to run for president in a small, backwater country in a world he didn’t really care about. Maybe he wanted to change things. Maybe it was because watching Wilbur parade around, giving grand speeches about freedom while he built his walls higher and higher started to get annoying after a while. Maybe, as the other runners claimed, he just wanted power.

If he was being honest with himself, it was probably about the power.

Still, he was pretty sure he could do a better job than Wilbur, at least. He wouldn’t get children killed for the independence of a tiny chunk of land, for one thing. He’d actually manage the place, for another. Wilbur might have had ideals and actual morals, but when push came to shove, all he did was hide behind other people and try to inspire his followers. He didn’t make real policies, real solutions, or anything like that.

So sure. Maybe Schlatt  _ did  _ just want power, but at least he’d be an actual president instead of an idealistic figurehead playing at ruling a country. For god’s sake, half of Wilbur’s cabinet were  _ teenagers. _ Besides, it wasn't like everyone in L’manburg was a huge fan of their so called president: Quackity was more than happy to pool their votes.

Anyway, there was no harm in trying to run. Even if he lost, at least he tried, and he wasn’t so sure he would lose. Schlatt liked to think of himself as a pretty persuasive person. He’d managed to form a coalition with Quackity, and he thought he had some pretty good ideas. He thought he had a pretty strong campaign, too. Maybe, if he won, he could actually fix up this place. Quackity seemed to believe in him, anyway, for all that was worth.

When the day of the election rolled around, Schlatt had to admit he was confident, maybe a bit too confident. He didn’t think he had it in the bag, not by a long shot, but he was sure he could scrape a win. He wished that Wilbur didn’t look so smug, but there was nothing to be done about that. All he had to do was try not to sweat holes through his suit while he waited until the votes were tallied, wishing for a drink. 

Tommy messed around with the microphone a bit, reminding Schlatt once again that Wilbur’s vice president was sixteen years old. Quackity scoffed at him, muttering things under his breath, and Schlatt tried not to seem too irritated about the heat, the noise, the fact that this was taking so long. Finally, Wilbur stepped up to the podium to read out the results.

Of course Schlatt had lost by  _ one percent.  _ It figured, he always had to be unlucky. When Wilbur announced that he and Tommy had won, when he fucking embraced the sixteen year old who was in no way fit to have this power, Schlatt thought he might be sick. When the crowd  _ cheered  _ for their president, Schlatt wanted to leave, but he forced himself to stay put.

The exile was a surprise. Sure, he and Wilbur had had tense exchanges, but he’d always at least somewhat respected the other man, and had expected that Wilbur would win with  _ some  _ sort of grace at least. He didn't expect that Wilbur would shove the fact that he won into his face over and over again before kicking him out of the country that he’d only just started to call home. Wilbur didn’t exile Quackity, but his vice president seemed to have some fucked up idea of loyalty or something like that, and trailed behind him like a lost puppy as he packed up his stuff. Schlatt wasn’t sure what Quackity was hoping to accomplish - there was nothing they could do about the election. They’d have to start over.

There was nowhere for them to go. That was the worst part of all this: Schlatt had set up in L’manburg. He’d started to build his house there. Wilbur had barely given him the time to pack out his meager belongings before Niki, uncharacteristically cruel, had chased him out alongside Eret and Tommy.

Of all the people to stand up for him, he wouldn’t have expected timid, shy, pushover Tubbo to speak up. Tubbo was quiet. Tubbo was, well, a puppet. Schlatt didn't think he’d heard the kid speak out against anything Wilbur or Tommy said. He was the perfect citizen - obedient, unquestioning, and blindly loyal, but apparently exiling political rivals in disgrace was enough to make him reconsider his sides.

So it was just the three of them. It sounded like the start of a bad joke: three former rivals sitting alone in a cave - or a ravine, as Tubbo had corrected, whose ceiling wouldn’t stop dripping, with no supplies or even food, aside from the raw potatoes Schlatt had brought with him from his chest.

Well, there was also a pufferfish that Tubbo kept trying to convince them to eat, but that didn’t really count as  _ food. _

They were screwed. Schlatt could already tell. Quackity, for some reason, was still hopeful, and Tubbo, who had some kind of weird faith in him, couldn’t see it, but Schlatt knew a losing battle when he saw one and they were not going to come out on top in this scenario. They were screwed, but Schlatt had two people counting on him, so they’d just have to survive until he could figure out what to do.

In the meantime, maybe they could start up a farm or something and get some light in here. He didn’t want to get blown up by a creeper their first night into exile. After that, he could think about trying to get allies.

***

As it turned out, Tubbo knew a surprising amount about redstone and was able to set up a fully automated farm in a couple of days. Schlatt had to admit that he was impressed - he was surprised that L’manburg hadn’t utilized this skill more, but then again, L’manburg seemed eager to remain stagnant. They never seemed to want to grow, unless what they were growing were the walls around their gilded cage.

Their nation, whatever it was called, on the other hand, was growing fast. Quackity and Schlatt spent most of their time mining out the ravine while Quackity chattered about possible strategies and plans to take back L’manburg and Schlatt listened with half an ear.

He had to admit, Quackity was pretty smart. Maybe a bit too eager, a tad impulsive, but the ideas were there, and most of them were good. Well, aside from booby trapping all the houses in L’manburg with the pufferfish Tubbo seemed to have an endless supply of. That was maybe not such a good idea. Everything else, though. 

Quackity seemed almost excited about the idea of capturing L’manburg, of overthrowing the elected leaders. Schlatt could see exactly how that would pan out: they would go in, guns blazing, maybe kill a few people, maybe even  _ win,  _ and then get labelled as tyrants and dictators. They needed something better than fighting another war, especially since Schlatt wasn’t thrilled about plunging Tubbo, who was a kid, and Quackity, who wasn’t much older, into battle.

Schlatt wasn't entirely averse to just… settling down. Sure, he wanted his fair share of revenge but they were outnumbered and had almost no resources. They might as well try to build themselves a country instead of destroying one that already existed. THey already had a food supply and a sort of home. It wouldn’t be very difficult to just… stop. Go into retirement. Not fight a battle they couldn’t win.

Tubbo was surprisingly on board with that plan. Well, it wasn't that surprising - Tubbo didn’t seem like the type to pick a fight, but it  _ did  _ surprise Schlatt that he wasn’t more vengeful, that he didn’t seem super interested in seeking out his old home. He mentioned visiting Tommy a couple of times, and Schlatt had to try to gently discourage him from that completely terrible idea, something he wasn’t the best at. He was too old for this, or maybe too young. He wasn’t sure. He thought about taking Tubbo fishing or something, because that seemed to be the type of thing kids his age should have been learning how to do, but he’d have to put a pin in that idea because he had deal with Quackity first, who was full to the brim with a thirst for vengeance and… not power, not exactly. More like control.

He didn’t want to give up on L’manburg, not really, but maybe it was time they understood that the best course of action would be to move on. They didn’t need their own country, and L’manburg seemed to be doing just fine on its own.

When Quackity suggested they hire more people to fight for them, Schlatt wasn’t sure what to say. It was… appealing: the idea of going back, reclaiming what should have been theirs, and changing things for the better. It sounded nice, in theory at least, but it would never work. Quackity suggested Technoblade, and Schlatt had to admit that wasn’t a completely awful idea. Technoblade was a good fighter, and even if knew Wilbur and Tommy, last time Schlatt had heard, he was an anarchist. THey could probably get him sold on the whole “destroying the government” thing. Schlatt would just have to convince Quackity not to start a new government afterwards, but that wouldn’t be too difficult. 

They took a vote in the end, a sort of imitation of the fiasco that the election had been. Schlatt read out the two options - either try to fight for L’manburg and recruit Technoblade, or settle down - in a grossly exaggerated version of Wilbur’s accent. 

In the end, they decided to try to get Techno. If Techno didn’t answer, well, what a shame, but at least he tried and they could finally move on from the nightmare that had been L’manburg. If Technoblade  _ did  _ answer, that was a whole other can of worms that Schlatt was pretty sure he wouldn’t have to deal with. If Technoblade  _ did  _ answer, Schlatt would have to start a revolution, something he knew for a fact that he wasn’t ready for.

It would be fine. Technoblade wouldn't come anyway, and Schlatt didn’t have anything to worry about. It would be fine.

***

It was not fine. Schlatt had never thought of himself as a revolutionary, but there was a first time for everything.


	2. Dig a hole to hide the seeds in and make them grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schlatt tries to recruit a spy, and plans for a festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that beekeepers have famously attractive eyes? I don't know the science behind it but they say beauty is in the eye of the bee-holder.
> 
> Chapter title taken from Axolotl by Cosmo Sheldrake.

The first thing Technoblade did when he joined Dream’s server was immediately get lost at spawn while Schlatt frantically gave him directions over his communicator. The second thing he did was promptly get distracted by Wilbur’s dog as soon as he started to find his way, Schlatt yelling in the background for him to get to - whatever they were calling their ravine.

Schlatt had to admit, this was not what he’d expected of the legendary warrior.

When Technoblade finally arrived at their ravine, he made a beeline straight to the farm, yet another thing Schlatt had failed to anticipate.

“This is nice,” he said in that flat, monotone voice of his. “Who made it?”

“Uh, Tubbo did,” Schlatt said, wondering why Technoblade cared about the farm. Maybe it was a mysterious tactic for feeling out their weaknesses or something.

“Hm,” Techno said. “Nice. He’s got good taste.”

“... good taste?”

“In vegetables,” Technoblade said, examining a potato. “Not sure about this variety, though. I mean, I guess I get why he chose it, considering the circumstances, but-”

Of course, it was at this moment that Quackity had to burst into the ravine.

“Technoblade!” he said. “The Blade! Welcome to our, uh. Our home. Our ravine. Country.”

“Uh, hello,” Technoblade said, looking a bit taken aback. “I think I remember you… were you in a tournament with me a while back? Can’t remember who you would’ve been teamed with.”

The color drained from Quackity’s face, and he laughed nervously. 

“Er, yeah… I remember that too. Uh, good times!”

“I think I killed you. A lot,” Technoblade said.

Schlatt glanced between the two of them. Maybe this wasn’t the best start for their possible alliance.

“Yeah,” Quackity said with a laugh. “But I put up a good fight, right?”

“Uh,” Techno said. He frowned staring at one of the walls of the ravine behind Quackity, as if deep in thought. Quackity swallowed. “No.”

“Well,” Schlatt interrupted before Quackity could jump in to defend his honor and pick a fight with the person they were trying to convince to join their side. “It would be awfully rude of us not to give you a tour. Why don’t we show you around?”

“Sure,” Techno said, and Schlatt let out a breath. This was going to be just fine, so long as Technoblade didn’t bring up that tournament thing again.

Luckily, he stayed mostly quiet as Schlatt showed him around. By the time they reached the end of the ravine, he seemed thoughtful, contemplative. He glanced around the ravine before he unleashed a string of questions on Schlatt.

“Is this all the supplies you have?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, we’re only just getting settled-”

“We’ll need more netherite. I’ll go mining later. Do you know how people in L’manburg feel about Wilbur and Tommy?”

“They were all glad that they were elected, so I’d say they feel pretty positively about them,” Schlatt said.

“Mm,” Technoblade said, and if he noticed the bitterness in Schlatt’s voice, he didn’t comment on it. “But that was at the election. Things may have changed since then. It would be nice if we had a spy or something. What do you think about Tubbo and Quackity? Are they loyal?”

“Quackity yes,” Schlatt said, and then wondered, and then dismissed the thoughts that were forcing their way into his mind. “Tubbo misses Tommy, but I’m pretty sure that he’s on our side.”

“Alright,” Techno said. He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you have a nether portal somewhere?”

“No,” Schlatt said. He wondered whether he should try to explain that they’d barely been here for a week, but if he was going to try to be a leader, he’d need to be assertive, confident. Techno was silent for a moment.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “I’ll get that set up.”

“Okay,” Schltat said.

A part of him resented Technoblade for coming in and taking control so easily, but he was mostly glad that someone who seemed to know what he was doing was able to take charge.

***

Most nights, Schlatt, Techno, Quackity, and sometimes Tubbo spent hours bent over maps of L’manburg, making lists of people who’d be willing to help, lists of potential allies and spies. Tubbo suggested Tommy often, and Schlatt didn’t know how to explain to the kid that his former best friend probably hated his guts now. Schlatt tried not to think about all the people who he’d trusted who hated his guts now. 

Somehow, Technoblade managed to be tactful to Tubbo, even as he dismissed his ideas. Schlatt regretted bringing a child into this battle, but they had few enough people as it was, and they couldn’t afford to lose someone who was already loyal to them.

Quackity suggested Fundy and Niki. Schlatt shot down Niki - as far as he knew, Wilbur was probably the person Niki was closest to on the server, which meant that Fundy was probably their best bet, even if he was Wilbur’s son. Technoblade suggested Eret, and Tubbo explained that she had a history of betrayal, so they saved her as a last resort.

The main issue was that there was no way to approach the people they thought might be willing to join them. Besides Techno, they had all been banished from L’manburg, and Technoblade wasn’t the most convincing person, especially alone.

Quackity tried to message Fundy, to no avail. It was only when Schlatt let Tubbo reach out to him that they got results. They agreed to meet, and Schlatt anticipated the day nervously, staying up far too late working on his pitch, and if there were a couple of empty bottles in the area he’d claimed as his office, well, no one had to know.

Fundy arrived in the ravine later than they’d arranged, and that alone seemed like a sign not to trust him, although Schlatt supposed that they didn’t need to trust him, they just needed allies. At least he was there. Schlatt gave him a tour, and for once, Quackity followed directions and stayed away.

“Where’s Tubbo?” Fundy asked, after his brief tour through the ravine.

“He’s probably with Technoblade right now,” Schlatt said. “They were going to go mining.”   


“You have Technoblade?”

“He’s on our side, yes,” Schlatt said, watching Fundy’s face, noting the impressed expression that passed over it.

“So, uh, what would me being your spy… entail?” Fundy said, and finally he was speaking Schlatt’s language.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything dangerous,” Schlatt assured him. “Because Wilbur trusts you, you aren’t going to have to sneak around or anything - just listen to what he says and write down the information in books to leave for us in a location we haven’t yet determined. That would be all.”

Schlatt didn’t comment on the angry, bitter look that swept across Fudny’s face when he mentioned Wilbur, but he remembered it.

“That sounds fair,” Fundy said. He paused, and Schlatt forced his hands to stay steady as he waited for Fundy to make up his mind. “I think. I think I’d be willing to do that.”

Schlatt smiled.

“Just one last thing,” he said. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know,” Fundy said, clearly caught off balance. “I guess I just want to do the right thing. Help fight against tyranny.”

Schlatt nodded tightly. So he was right. He couldn’t trust Fundy, especially if he was willing to lie about his motives. Schlatt would just have to rely on his anger at his dad overpowering his loyalty for his nation.

“Right,” he said. “Well then, you should probably get back to Wilbur and Tommy before they get suspicious now.”

“Yeah,” Fundy said. He paused. “Just… is Tubbo alright?”

“Tubbo is doing fine,” Schlatt promised.

He wasn’t sure about recruiting the son of their biggest enemy to be their spy, but Quackity seemed to trust him, and Schlatt half trusted Quackity, so he was willing to give him a chance, even if he was reluctant. 

Things were going… not smoothly, exactly, but as smoothly as they could be. Their odds weren't good, but they weren’t worse than usual. Technoblade had gotten them all full netherite gear, which gave Schlatt, if not a sense of security, a confidence boost.

They had a chance of succeeding.

***

Their revolution was going well, which meant that Schlatt really shouldn’t have been surprised when Wilbur dropped by their ravine a week later, a cheerful smile plastered over his face.

“Hello!” He said, looking around at the progress they’d made with the walls, with the potato farm. “This looks… nice.”

“Wilbur!” Tubbo said, taking a step forward. Schlatt didn’t like the hope in Tubbo’s voice, the way he seemed to perk up. Another thing he’d have to account for. Another weakness he’d have to deal with. He really couldn’t trust anyone, could he?

“Tubbo,” Wilbur said. “Good old Tubbo. You know, at the start of your exile, Tommy wouldn't stop talking about you.”

“He wouldn’t?”

Schlatt kept his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, keeping him away from Wilbur. Whatever he was here for, it couldn’t be good.

“Yeah,” Wilbur said. “At first, I thought he’d never shut up about you. But, he’s finally moved on.”

“He - he has?” Tubbo faltered.

“Yep,” Wilbur continued. “Best friends with Fundy, now, actually. I said it was a shame, you know, told him not to throw away all the good times you two had. But he said you threw them away the minute you sided with Schlatt.”

“Why are you here, Wilbur?” Schlatt said, stepping forward. Wilbur chuckled.

“Always like to get right to the point, don’t you Schlatt?”

“Not really.”

Wilbur just laughed again at that.

“Fair enough,” he said. “I just wanted to let you all know that we're holding a festival to celebrate our independence. It takes place in a week’s time.”

“I assume we’re not invited.”  
“You always were a smart one. No, you’re not invited, but Technoblade is. Is he around here somewhere?”

“I’ll let him know,” Schlatt said.

“Wonderful,” Wilbur said lightly. “Well then, I guess I have nothing left to do here.”

“I guess not.”

“Just - Tubbo,” Wilbur said. “Tommy might still be angry with you, but you know how he gets. I’m willing to give you a second chance, with a teensy weensy punishment, just cause, you know, actions have consequences, and he’ll warm up to the idea. You can still come home.”

Tubbo stared at him speechlessly for a moment. Schlatt squeezed his shoulder and tried to keep his face blank.

“I think I'm good here, thanks,” Tubbo said, finding his voice, and Schlatt grinned as Wilbur’s smile was drawn taut.

***

Technoblade insisted on going to the festival to gather information as soon as he heard about it, and Quackity insisted that he and Schlatt would sneak after him, which Technoblade said was a terrible idea. 

Listening to them argue all day was exhausting, almost as exhausting as reading Fundy’s reports about L’manburg and Wilbur and searching for a flaw, any flaw, that L’manburg had made, any gaps in its walls or chinks in its armor.

He found nothing. According to Fundy, most people were still happy with Wilbur as their president, even though he wasn’t doing anything besides building public parks no one would ever go to and retelling the tales of their original revolution about Dream. Fundy talked the most about Wilbur in all his reports, which was good for Schlatt. Someone had once told him that it was crucial to know his enemies, and he was determined to figure out what Wilbur’s weaknesses were.

In the days before the festival, Schlatt spent most of his time hidden away in his office, ignoring the worried looks Tubbo and Quackity gave him when he came out only to get himself more coffee and occasionally a bite to eat. 

He had to know more. The idea of taking Quackity and Technoblade into enemy territory, blind and alone, filled Schlatt with a sort of dread he couldn’t quite place. He couldn’t fall for another one of Wilbur’s traps. He was going to win. He had to win, and if he was going to come out on top, he needed a more detailed plan, so back to his office he went.


	3. You and I are friends of empty graves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade attends a festival. Nothing goes wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Technoblade's own words, nothing bad ever happened at a festival :)
> 
> Chapter title taken from Canary in a Coal Mine, by the Crane Wives.

Schlatt wasn’t sure what he was expecting the festival to be like. A death trap, maybe, full of armed people waiting to ambush Technoblade. A battleground, a bloodbath.

He didn’t expect to see colorful decorations strung across the walls, games that Fundy proudly announced he’d helped set up, a dancing area, a flower shop. Luckily, Technoblade was smart enough not to let his guard down.

Schlatt watched as Technoblade participated in Fundy’s games. He squinted from a distance as they tried to drown and then to beat him to death, all in good fun of course. He only grew more and more on edge as the day progressed. Everything about this festival screamed that it was all a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what sort it was. He could barely hear himself think over the suggestions Quackity kept whispering to him.

They’d gone together, and he still wasn’t sure whether or not he regretted that. He was glad they’d left Tubbo behind, partly because Tubbo didn’t need to be forced to fight against his old friends in what was sure to be a set up, and partly because Schlatt wasn’t sure how long Tubbo would hold up at such close quarters to his old home.

The day went on. Nothing bad happened. Wilbur seemed to be in good spirits, talking animatedly with everyone, which was probably a bad sign. Schlatt still didn’t understand what was going on.

When Wilbur stepped up to the podium, Schlatt’s spirits sank.

His speech was typical - about grandeur and glory and an era of peace and prosperity. He talked about how much they had grown, and all Schlatt could see was the height of the walls he and Quackity were sitting on. He gritted his teeth and forced himself not to shoot Wilbur down right then and there. Quackity put a hand on his arm and shook his head, and he made himself relax. He wished he had a drink, and then wished he didn’t want a drink.

“Fundy,” Wilbur said, smiling his dazzling smile. “Why don’t you come up here and give your speech?”

“Uh, okay,” Fundy said, smiling nervously. He mounted the stairs to the stage, looking out across the sea of faces. “Um, here I go I guess!” He laughed nervously. “When Wilbur first announced he was running for president, I was, uh, thrilled, as I’m sure many of you guys were. We were all, uh, so happy, and relieved, when he unsurprisingly won. He’s done so much good for our land during his time as our president. He’s exiled Schlatt, Quackity, and Tubob, traitors who would have brought corruption and danger to our country. He built up our walls to keep us safe. Because of Wilbur, our country is more free and safe-”  
“Uh, Fundy, why don’t you stop right there?” Wilbur said, an odd smile creeping up his face. “Can you, uh, can you just take a step back, yeah?”

“Okay,” Fundy said, sounding confused. As Schlatt watched, he was backed into a cage, whose door slammed shut as soon as he was inside. Wilbur stepped up to his place on the stage.

“I expect you’re all wondering what’s going on,” he said, his smile razor sharp. “Like, for example, why exactly is Fundy in this cage?”

“Wilbur?” Tommy said. Wilbur ignored him, and Schlatt wished that he was closer, that he could see what was going on more clearly.

“Well,” Wilbur continued. “I have an announcement to make that I’m sure you’ll all find shocking. I know I was shocked when I learned that Fundy, a man who I raised, who’s lived in L’manburg his whole life, who I trusted, was a traitor to the country he helped me build.”

Dead silence. Dread built up in Schlatt’s chest, and he glanced over at Quackity, whose brows were creased in concentration.

“What do we do?” Quackity whispered.

“I don’t know,” Schlatt admitted. “I don’t… know.”

“Fundy, what the fuck?” Tommy said. “Is that true?”

“My own son!” Wilbur shouted. “ A traitor to the nation I built for him!”

“Fundy, why?” Niki called from the crowd.

“That’s exactly what I was wondering,” Wilbur said. “Why would Fundy, a boy who grew up in our country, a child of our nation, betray us for Schlatt?”

“Listen,” Fundy muttered. This was not a good sign. “I mean, maybe Schlatt isn’t such a bad guy. Maybe we should just-”

“Not a bad guy?” Wilbur repeated incredulously. “Not a bad guy? He literally has horns, Fundy - no offense, Techno, but yours are more like tusks anyway.”

“None taken,” Techno said.

“Make Techno do something,” Quackity said to Schlatt.

“Like what?” Schlatt said. “He’s outnumbered. There’s nothing we can do.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Fundy?” Tommy said.

“Tommy-”

“Fundy,” Wilbur said. “I’m sure under _Schlatt’s_ administration, they’d have you, I don’t know, burned at the stake or something. But L’manburg is merciful. If you pledge your loyalty to me, and to this great country, if you accept a small punishment - say house arrest for a month, then I say we let you go. What do you think?”  
“I didn’t do anything wrong!”

An ugly expression crossed Wilbur’s face.

“Let it be remembered that L’manburg tried to show you mercy, and you were too proud to accept it,” he said.

“Schlatt-” Quackity started.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Technoblade, why don’t you step up to the podium?”

“Uh, Wilbur, are you sure about this?” Technoblade said, standing up but not moving any closer.

“Technoblade, step up to the podium.”

Techonblade walked up the steps slowly, keeping an eye on his exits. Schlatt’s nails dug into his palms.

“Technoblade,” Wilbur said. “Fundy pledged his loyalty to this country, and then he betrayed us. Do you know what the punishment is for tyranny?”

“Wilbur, no,” Fundy said. “Wilbur - Dad-”

“You lost the right to call me dad when you turned against my country!” Wilbur shouted, and Fundy flinched back. “Tommy,” Wilbur said, more calmly. “You are - you  _ were  _ Fundy’s best friend. What do you think should happen to him?”

“Fundy, why?” Tommy said.

“Tommy, please-”

“Fundy, how could you?”

Fundy didn’t respond, and Tommy turned away. Schlatt wished he could tear his eyes away, but they remained glued on the scene.

“Wilbur,” Tommy said, voice heavy. “He’s not my friend anymore. Do what you like with him. I don’t care.”

Wilbur smiled.

***

Technoblade came back to the ravine late. His hands were dry of blood, but there was orange fur caught in his armor, and burns from his fireworks arched across his face and neck.

“Schlatt,” he said calmly, all business, no trace of emotion in his voice, “we need to start looking for new spies. We need a new source of information now that Fundy’s compromised.”

“You think that Fundy will stay loyal to us after this?”

“Probably,” Techno said. “But he won’t be able to come to us for a while. I doubt he thinks very highly of L’manburg now, though, after Wilbur killed him.”

“You killed him,” Quackity said.

Technoblade ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Quackity-”

“I told you it was a trap! I fucking warned you and you didn’t listen and now Fundy is  _ dead.” _

“Yeah, it was a trap, but Wilbur would have killed Fundy regardless.”

“Wilbur didn’t kill Fundy! You did!”

“Wilbur would have found someone else to-”

“But he didn’t. And  _ you  _ killed Fundy.”

“Do you think I wanted to? Do you think that I thought to myself, ‘the best course of action for the revolution would be to kill our only spy’ and then I did it because it was fun? I was outnumbered. I couldn’t have fought them all off. As it is, we still have one valuable asset instead of zero: me. If I tried to avoid killing Fundy, we would have lost both of us.”

“I think you’re a traitor.”

“And where were  _ you  _ that whole time? Do you remember what our plan was? Maybe today was a bit stressful: I can give you a recap, if you want. You were supposed to step in if anyone was in danger. That was  _ why  _ you were there. Well, guess what? Fundy was in danger, and where were you guys? When did you come and back me up and help me fight off all of L’manburg? You can’t call me a traitor - I did what I was supposed to. You were the ones who didn’t back me up.”

“Wilbur wanted to make an example of Fundy,” Quackity said, ignoring Techno’s outburst. “He wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t there to see.”

“He wanted to make an example  _ to  _ the people of L’manburg,” Techno said. “The fact that I was there was just an added benefit.”

“Guys-” Tubbo said.

“So you admit it benefited them for you to go!”

“Guys-”

“It also benefited us!”

“How? We lost our spy!”

“Who we would have lost either way!”  
“Enough!” Schlatt said. He rubbed his temples. What he wouldn’t do for a drink right about now. “Technoblade, Quackity was right about it being a trap. But Quackity, it really would have happened regardless. There was nothing _any of us_ could have done.”

Quackity and Technoblade glowered at each other for a moment before Technoblade stalked off in the direction of the farm. 

“Tubbo, could I talk to you for a moment in private?” Schlatt said. 

“Okay,” Tubbo said, following Schlatt back to his office. Schlatt shut the door behind him, sweeping some of the dust off of the chairs before he sat down.

“Tubbo,” Schlatt said. “I know that it must be hard for you to fight against your old friends. I know that must suck.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo said. He sighed. “It does kinda suck.”

“Look,” Schlatt said, trying not to hate himself for what he needed Tubbo to do. “I know that it’s hard, but we’re down a spy. You know how Wilbur said that he would be willing to let you go back to L’manburg? I want you to take him up on his offer. I need you to be our spy.”

Tubbo glanced at his hands, then back at Schlatt.

“I’m not a very good liar,” he muttered.

“You don’t need to be,” Schlatt said. “You can still be friends with Tommy and Wilbur. You can have fun with them, you can have a home. You just also need to give me information on the side. Just like what Fundy did.”

“And if I get caught, like Fundy did?”

“We’ll have Techno bail you out. It’ll be fine.”  
“Like he bailed out Fundy?”

“He was outnumbered then.”

“And if I’m outnumbered?”

“I-” Schlatt paused, took a deep breath. “You’re right. I can’t guarantee your safety. This isn’t something I can force you to do. You don’t  _ need  _ to be a spy. But this country needs you to be a spy.”

Tubbo sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll do it. On one condition.”

“What do you want?”

“I get to name this country.”

“Uh… okay. What do you want to name it?”

“Manburg,” Tubbo said, beaming. “Because we don’t take Ls.”

“That… that’s terrible,” Schlatt said. He laughed. “I love it.”


	4. Ever day, I add another stone to the walls I built around you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schlatt's not having a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from Hello my Old Heart, by the Oh Hellos.

The revolution was making progress. Tubbo updated Schlatt nearly every day, with news about Wilbur and Tommy and L’manburg’s resources. Technoblade mostly kept track of gathering materials, of accounting for what their enemies had. That type of thing didn't really matter to Schlatt - instead, he flipped through the books until he got to the sections about Wilbur. Maybe he was being obsessive, but he wouldn’t let this man beat him again.

It didn’t seem like Wilbur was doing too well, anyway. According to Tubbo, he grew more paranoid, more unstable, with each passing day, jumping at shadows and suspecting everyone and everything, even Tommy.

This was good. This was exactly the wedge Schlatt needed to drive between Wilbur and his country. If he could convince everyone that Wilbur was too distrustful, too irrational, to be fit to lead, then he could turn L’manburg against Wilbur and gain more people’s loyalty. He had a chance. He could do this.

Then Tubbo stopped writing as often. It wasn’t like Schlatt didn’t trust _ him _ \- it was more that he couldn’t trust anyone, especially someone who had been on Wilbur and Tommy’s side for so long before joining Schlatt. Schlatt still got his updates once a week, and they still did have valuable information, it was just sparser. Tubbo explained in one of his books that Wilbur had started to get suspicious of him so it was too risky to send information every day, but that could have easily been a lie. According to Tubbo, Fundy was still loyal to them, and it sounded like it was true but Schlatt just wasn’t  _ sure. _

He started to stay up later, going over their plans again and again, searching for a flaw, searching for anything that could possibly go wrong. Maybe he had a few drinks to curb him over, but who could blame him? Running a revolution was stressful, especially when he needed everything to go perfectly in order to succeed, and he couldn’t afford even a single mistake.

Quackity looked at him funny sometimes, half worried and half ashamed to be associated with him. In the end, Quackity was a fellow revolutionary and not a friend, so he kept his distance. Technoblade didn’t come to the ravine as much anymore - Schlatt assumed he had set up his own house somewhere, but the voice in the back of his mind that didn’t trust anyone or anything whispered that he’d betrayed them for his old friends, for Wilbur. 

It didn’t really make any sense - Techno’s whole thing was being anti government. That was why he’d agreed to help Manburg in the first place. Still, he’d killed Fundy at the festival. He’d listened to Wilbur then.

Quackity would have accused him of being paranoid if he told him this, but Quackity, like everyone else, didn’t realize how hard everything was. He knew that Quackity still had faith in him because that was what Quackity was like, and he dreaded the day he’d inevitably let everyone down.

There weren’t many people Schlatt could trust anymore, so he’d have to depend on fear and desperation to keep his people loyal to him. It wasn’t like Wilbur was much more dependable, from what Tubbo had told him, if anything Tubbo said was true at all.

He was fucked. He had known that from the moment he set foot in his ravine - he had nothing and almost no one. Tubbo was barely loyal and Schlatt doubted he’d stay that for long - being at home, surrounded by old friends, was bound to make him rethink his slide eventually, probably sooner than later. Technoblade only cared about anarchy, and if Quackity got too vocal about his ambitions, he’d probably leave as well, and Quackity…

Sometimes, it felt like Quackity was the last person he could depend on. Sometimes, it felt like he could depend on no one except himself and his shaking hands. Sometimes, it felt like he couldn’t even depend on that.

***

Tubbo had stopped giving him updates, either because he'd gotten caught or finally decided to betray Schlatt, who was now blind, stuck in his ravine, both of his spies gone. He was dying. Quackity locked up his bottles and Schlatt wanted to be angry but couldn’t find the energy.

He had asked Technoblade if he thought they could win, and Techno had shrugged and grabbed a map and pointed out advantages and disadvantages and superior strategy and weapons and forces. Schlatt was able to listen for about half of his explanation before he lost focus.

They were going to lose. That was what Techno was saying, just he was hiding it beneath the hope he disguised as logic and reason.

Wilbur came by more and more often now, sometimes to give long rants about how they were going to lose, how they should just give up hope, sometimes just to stare at them in unnerving silence. The Wilbur Schlatt had known never stopped talking, to an infuriating degree - Schlatt would have done anything to get him to shut up - but now he just stood and watched, bags under his eyes darker each time he came.

The worst part was, Schlatt couldn’t do anything because if they made one wrong move, they were screwed. They could win a battle on their terms, with time to prepare, time to collect weapons, but if they were forced to fight in the wrong place or at the wrong time, then any chance of victory went out the window.

One day, after Techno and Quackity left to go get wither skulls or gunpowder or netherite or whatever they did when they went out, Schlatt was left alone, bathing in the shadows of the ravine, when Wilbur came by. Schlatt looked up at the face of the man who had taken  _ everything  _ from him - his friends, his home, the country that could have been his, and wanted him  _ dead. _

“Schlatt,” Wilbur said, and Schlatt didn’t bother looking up. “We’re fighting, on the sixteenth. Final battle and all that - thought I’d give you the courtesy of knowing about your inevitable demise. Apparently Dream is on your side, though, so that’s a plus, right?”

Wilbur showed off his pearly white teeth, but his smile was less convincing now that his eyes were dull and his hair was too long and caked with some type of dust - either redstone or gunpowder. 

“Fuck off, WIlbur,” Schlatt rasped. He hadn’t realized his voice was so hoarse - he couldn’t remember the last time he’d really spoken. 

“Alright then,” Wilbur said, and the amusement in his voice was forced but it was still so fucking infuriating, and Schlatt would have killed that pretentious bastard right htere and then if he could find the energy to stand up.

Technoblade and Quackity came back hours or maybe days later, and Schlatt told them about what Wilbur had said. Their faces lit up when he told them that Dream was on their side - Quackity didn’t stop smiling all day, and Technoblade was less stony faced.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t  _ matter,  _ because Dream would betray them eventually just like everyone else. It didn't matter, because Dream was just in it for the power, or the chaos, or the blood, and once he realized that Schlatt probably couldn’t get him much of any of that, he’d turn his back on them.

Dream hung out in the ravine once in a while, and Technoblade discussed plans and gear with him, and there was a lightness to both of Schlatt’s friends (if he could call them friends) that Schlatt hadn’t seen in a long time. They were hopeful, confident even, and Schlatt couldn’t bring himself to tell that this would never last, that it could never last, especially when they wouldn’t believe him - in their eyes, he was just as paranoid as Wilbur was, maybe even more so.

Everything was falling apart anyway, so Schlatt snuck into L’manburg, not wearing the armor Technoblade had given him, not holding the sword or the shield Dream had handed him. The drug van was inviting and almost warm, and it reeked of old memories and nostalgia. He looked around it, digging through the chests, shaking out the brewing stands for spare scraps of blaze powder. He took a moment to flip through a book on a lectern, the triumphs and the sacrifices that L’manburg had made for its so-called freedom.

Fuck. This place, which had seemed so inviting, so nice, at first, turned out to be just as bad, if not worse, than the rest of L’manburg. God, he hated it here, with its nice, not too bright lights and the wide open windows. He hated the way he could feel the past crawling up his skin, hated the way he envied what L’manburg had so much that it hurt to be in the country that could have been, that  _ should have  _ been his. 

He took the book from the lectern so that he could read it more carefully, and then he gave up because the small print made him have to squint, and he didn’t want to care about these things anyway. He looked out the window and imagined what this place would have looked like under his presidency. He would have torn the walls down. He would have built actual houses instead of dirt shacks that got griefed or destroyed after a day. He would have put actual laws in place.

He sighed. He doubted any of that would ever happen. The world, or maybe just his world, was going to end tomorrow anyway. When Dream betrayed him, as he inevitably would, Schlatt didn’t want to have to be sober to feel it. He was going to die tomorrow, so he might as well get drunk now.


	5. Daughter Phoenix, Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe abandoning your revolution and getting drunk the day before a battle isn't the smartest thing to do, but Schlatt can manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My motto is and always will be: if you don't reference Philza Minecraft in your fic at least once, it's not a good fic.
> 
> Chapter title taken from Zephyrus, by the Oh Hellos.

The world felt blurry, and Schlatt’s head was splitting open. He was distantly aware of people shouting and the banging of fireworks and explosives. He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn’t cooperate with him, and he groaned, leaning back against the wall.

When had he passed out here, amidst the heat and one too many drinks? Was it before or after the battle had started? The stench of blood from outside leaked through the windows, and his communicator buzzed with what seemed like thousands of messages. He squinted at the words, which were too bright and too small. The screen hurt his eyes.

He scrolled through the messages from Techno and Dream, mostly asking where he was and what he was doing, until he got to Quackity’s. He read through them, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. He should have felt guilty - Quackity’s messages were a timeline of confusion fading into anger, then fury and eventually desperation. He should have felt ashamed - he had left behind his revolution. He was a traitor, he was a deserter. He was still a little drunk.

He stood up, swaying slightly on his feet, and debated putting on his armor, and decided against it. He narrowly avoided tripping over an empty bottle at his feet as he stumbled over to the window. From what he could tell, it was late morning, maybe noon. In the distance, he could see fireworks exploding from a tower.

The ground tipped and wobbled beneath him. With a dull thump, Schlatt sank to the floor. He tried and failed to get up again. Resigned to his fate now, he slumped against the wall with a groan, leaning his head against the cool, rigid windowsill, and waited.

***

There were footsteps. Schlatt forced his eyes open, squinting against the light. His eyes met Fundy's, met Tubbo’s, met Techno and Quackity’s. He forced himself to his feet, turning towards Wilbur, to Dream, who lingered in the back of the room. So it was everyone on the server against him. He’d always suspected this was he’d go down.

A crossbow was poking into his chest, and he was able to identify Tommy as the person who was holding it.

“Hey,” he rasped, baring his teeth in what he hoped could pass as a grin.

“Schlatt.” Wilbur said.

“Bitch,” he answered. Wilbur laughed, and he gritted his teeth, turning towards Technoblade, who was staring at him, face blank. Schlatt thought he detected some disappointment in his eyes, and it infuriated him. Technoblade had no right to be disappointed in him. Technoblade had known what he was signing up for.

“Schlatt.” Techonblade spoke calmly, as if they weren’t completely surrounded by people who wanted to kill them. “Dream decided to surrender in your name. He won’t fight for us anymore. I don’t think we have much of a chance to win, but it’s up to you whether or not we keep fighting.”

“You don’t think we can still win?” Schlatt said, and maybe his words were slurring and he was speaking too loudly, but he kept going. “No shit! We were never going to win. This whole battle was hopeless from the very beginning.”  
“Schlatt-” Quackity said, and he wheeled around to face his last remaining ally, his only friend.

“What?” he said. “You think this is a battle we can win? Seriously? I didn’t think you were that stupid.”

“Schlatt, come on,” Quackity said.

“Come on?” He echoed. “We’re surrounded! Outnumbered! Both of our spies betrayed us!”

“I never betrayed you!” Fundy said. “You replaced me!”  
“Because you were compromised,” Technoblade said. “Schlatt, are you surrendering or not?”  
Schlatt hesitated. He glanced at Tubbo, who was avoiding his gaze, staying close to Tommy. He looked up at Wilbur. If it were just him, he would have kept fighting against the whole server. He would have fought until his fists bled and he could barely walk. He would have fought until he died, until he killed them all. But Technoblade and Quackity had a stake in this too, and he didn’t want to get them killed, even if he couldn't trust them, even if they’d betray him without a second thought. He sighed.

“Yeah,” he said. “I surrender.”

***

Wilbur led them out to the podium where he had lost months ago, Tommy keeping his crossbow trained on him the whole time. Schlatt sat down in one of the seats in the back, and Techno and Quackity sat down next to him. They watched as Wilbur stepped up to the stage. Schlatt groaned, bracing himself for a speech, but he didn’t get one - instead, Wilbur was. Wait. Wilbur was stepping down as president?  
Schlatt frowned in confusion as Wilbur welcomed Tommy to the podium. This was weird, this was sketchy, but as long as there was a government, L’manburg was sealing its own doom. At least he could trust Technoblade to keep fighting against the government, even if things were hopeless.

Schlatt kept an eye on Wilbur as everyone celebrated Tommy, as Tommy stumbled through a half prepared speech. There was no way that Wilbur would give up his power that easily, not after he went to such great lengths to hold onto it. It had to be a trap. It must have been a trap.

When Wilbur slipped away amongst the celebrations and the laughter, Schlatt followed him. Behind him, people discussed plans for a brighter future, measures to take to make sure there wasn’t another war.

Wilbur walked across the hill and into a room, and Schlatt trailed behind him. He looked around noticing the words scribbled across the walls, the trails of redstone across the floor, the button on the wall. He wasn’t sure what it did. He was pretty sure that he didn’t want to find out.

“Wilbur, what is this?” he said. He kept his grip tight on the sword L’manburg had been stupid enough to let him keep. Wilbur turned around.

“Schlatt!” he said. He laughed. “So you’re here too. Great. I wander all the way out here to get a moment alone, to get some peace and quiet so I can  _ fucking think,  _ and you have to follow me. You really are a nuisance, you know that right?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Schlatt said. He was exhausted and angry and he just wanted Wilbur dead. He just wanted this to be over.

“This?” Wilbur gestured around. “This is Plan B. This is my safety measure, my, uh, how should I put this. My insurance.”  
“And what does that mean?”

“It means that if everything goes to shit, I get to blow this whole place sky high.” Wilbur’s laugh was tinged with hysteria.

“You won. What do you mean, if everything goes to shit, you fucking won.”

“Did I?” Wilbur said. “Did I really? Cause when I look around, you know what I see? A son that hates me. A friend who doesn’t trust me, who thinks I’m insane. Tubbo fucking chose you over me! He chose you, a paranoid, power hungry alcoholic who can’t even stand up for what he believes in! What does he see in you? You fucking surrendered, what does he see in you?”

“He betrayed me,” Schlatt said. He edged closer to Wilbur, still holding his sword. “What do you mean he chose me?”

Wilbur ignored his interruption.

“And you’re - you’re pathetic! You never believed in freedom! Why is everyone siding with you, you would have been a tyrant!”

“Well, you know what they say,” Schlatt said, watching the way Wilbur hung up onto each of his words. “Takes one to know one.”  
He lunged as WIlbur pressed the button.

***

Schlatt could taste gunpowder. 

The explosion had blown him back, but not before he had managed to stab Wilbur. There was blood on his hands and some leaking from the back of his head, where he had been slammed into the wall. He was surprised at the sheer force of the explosions - he hadn’t thought Wilbur had it in him to do something like that.

There was a throbbing, fierce, agony in his stomach and he glanced down at his torso. He saw and didn’t quite process the piece of shrapnel that had embedded itself in his side. He felt and didn’t quite process the blood that seeped through his shirt. He stumbled over to the wall, closing his eyes and trying to figure out what to do.

There was a puff of wind, and then there was a man standing in front of him, facing where Wilbur had stood. At the sight of Wilbur’s corpse, he made a soft, devastated sound before he straightened and seemed to notice Schlatt for the first time.

“Schlatt,” Phil said, and Schlatt looked up. “You - you killed my son.”

“Should’ve done a better job raising him. Then I wouldn’t have had to,” Schlatt said. It was growing increasingly difficult to stand. He gripped one of the remaining walls with one hand and tried to support himself.

Fury and pain crossed over Phil’s face, and he raised his sword. Schlatt laughed. Outside, the sounds of withers echoed through the cave. He could hear Tehcnoblade shouting.

“Yeah, go ahead and kill me,” Schlatt said. He laughed again. Phil didn’t move, seemingly frozen, eyes still fixed on Wilbur’s corpse. “Do it!” Everything was starting to go dark. His hand caught on the ridges of the wall as he sank to his knees. “That’s what I fucking thought. You’re a coward, you know that? Can’t even kill the man who killed your son.”  
The pain was overwhelming. The wall was hard against his back, and it was getting more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. Finally, Phil lifted his eyes and met Schlatt’s.

“That’s what I thought,” Schlatt managed. He coughed up blood. “You're a coward-”

Phil lifted Willbur’s sword and drove it into Schlatt’s chest. For a moment, there was only agony, and then there was nothing. 


End file.
